


Re-Cultivating Allies

by Cosmic_Biscuit



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Gen, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Biscuit/pseuds/Cosmic_Biscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dangan Ronpa IF Universe - After Hope's Peak, Mukuro seeks out the only member of Super High School Level Despair who might actually be willing to help her. (Spoilers for Super Dangan Ronpa 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Re-Cultivating Allies

As the others began bedding down in what remained of a public library, Mukuro quietly watched over them, taking stock of what they had so far. No one except her and Oogami had gotten out of the mob waiting at the gates of Hope’s Peak unscathed, and the two of them had their own injuries already from her sister’s trick with the escape switch. What food and medical supplies they’d been able to steal on their way to the current hideout had been meager, and, with their numbers, wouldn’t even last through a meal tomorrow.  
  
And that was _if_ the crowds still out destroying the everything they could get their hands on didn’t find them again _first_.  
  
Her fingers clenched on the hilt of the knife she’d stolen from a man who’d made the mistake of swinging it at her. _Dammit_. Like it or not, she’d taken on responsibility for the others when she’d faced Junko. But getting out of Hope’s Peak had been one thing; she doubted they had enough luck to get out of the city without losing anyone.  
  
Luck...  
  
She chewed on the idea as she chewed on one of the few remaining of the set of fake nails Junko had insisted she wear with the disguise. Everyone else from SHSL Despair was probably out for her head now like the masses outside. Even after Junko had cast them all aside, Mukuro doubted they would take what she’d done lightly at all. But if she could get hold of _him_... then maybe, just _maybe_...  
  
Decision made, she slid down off the bookcase she’d been using as her sentry point, landing lightly among the dust and rubble and destroyed books. She didn’t like the idea of leaving the others unguarded for even a small length of time, but the sooner she could make contact - _if_ she could make contact- the better. The closest of the relays the two of them and the mechanic had set up was a good fifteen minutes by foot, so she had to get going.  
  
Making sure the cloth she’d wrapped the knife in would hold, she shoved it into the waistband of her skirt and headed out into the night cover.  
  
She hadn’t even made it to the end of the block before she was aware she was being followed. Her own movements near-silent despite the damned heels, she listened carefully as she kept walking, then let out a breath. Though the loss of her memories had not robbed Kirigiri of her stealth, and Naegi was _trying_ to emulate the detective, they were still identifiable enough that Mukuro felt confident in not looking back or otherwise acknowledging their attempt at shadowing unless they fell in danger.  
  
The relay station was still where they’d left it in an abandoned warehouse, and though she had to dig it out of a collapsed wall, she counted it to his luck that both it and the tower it had been patched into were still intact. Now she just had to hope that he was still monitoring the central frequency somehow.  
  
She keyed in the pattern for his distress code instead of hers, just in case anyone else might have been listening, then sat back on her heels to wait. “You might as well find somewhere comfortable. It could be awhile.”  
  
“ _Ack_ \- How did-” There was a muffled ‘Mph!’, probably Kirigiri clamping a hand over his mouth.  
  
“What are you doing?” the other girl asked stiffly.  
  
“That depends. Getting help, maybe, I don’t know yet. Whatever happens, it’s best you two don’t be seen for now.”  
  
More shuffling and rustling, then silence. Mukuro doubted they’d gone back to the library hideout, but hiding was good enough.  
  
And still, she waited.  
  
Her legs were finally beginning to cramp and she was about to have to stretch when there was the sound of shifting rubble from above, then a soft “Ikusaba-san. I should have guessed.”  
  
She straightened and turned as Komaeda jumped down from the broken window he’d climbed through. Barely bothering to dust himself off, he approached with his hands in his coat pockets and a casual smile on his face, as if the last time they had seen each other, they'd been having tea instead of covered in their own blood from a mission gone awry. “That was a good idea, using my own signal. But why call such pathetic trash as me, hm? Things didn’t work out the way Enoshima planned?”  
  
“I’m sure you know what happened. You wouldn’t have missed out on watching her little production,” Mukuro said, keeping her voice as even as possible. Even though Junko had done so much to hurt her in the escape -she’d deserved it, she was sure, for being such a disappointing sister, but still- there was still that part that balked at the hate in his voice when he spoke her sister’s name. However it quieted when he suddenly laughed and spread his hands wide.  
  
“Of course I didn’t! And you were _magnificent_ , Ikusaba-san! To think, the soldier-sister of despair would turn and fight for the beacons of hope! It was _beautiful_!”  
  
On one hand, she was glad to hear the praise. The potential that her actions might buy his aid had just increased. On the other... _Junko_...  
  
She swallowed, forcing her nerves down before they could make her hands shake. She didn’t show fear or that she was upset. She _didn’t_. Other things were more important. “The other students are still with me. But if I’m going to get them somewhere safe for any length of time, I’m going to need your help.”  
  
“Oh? And what could _I_ possibly do for you?” he asked, pulling at a lock of his hair, and that was when she noticed that amongst the freshly-bandaged wounds on his hands were older marks that looked like they’d been made by a small blade... like a scalpel.

Shit, that meant Tsumiki was probably somewhere close by, then. “Where is she?” she asked, changing subjects for a moment as her hands clenched. The last thing she needed right now was for the mad nurse to pop up and attack the two in hiding.

He didn’t need to ask her whom she meant, looking in the direction her gaze had gone. “You don’t have to worry about Mikan-chan. She hasn’t left my last home station since Enoshima shut down the central meeting place and went back to the school.”  
  
Mukuro took a deep breath. Okay. Okay, good. She could ask personal questions later, as long as they were out of immediate danger for the time being. “You’re the only one who knows the city grounds and the safe-house locations even better than I do, and no one would be hunting you if you went looking for supplies.”  
  
“That’s true. I'm very easy to overlook.”  
  
“You would be helping the beacons of hope yourself." She had to choose her next words carefully, and they were hard to make herself spit out. But she _had_ to say them to cement the appeal between them of what she herself had done. “It would be good payback. Imagine if _she_ saw them safe and happy and knew _you_ had a hand in it.”  
  
His expression had turned calculating and, even with all her training, it was hard not to fidget under his stare. But to her relief, he smiled again, more feverishly and brightly, and then bowed theatrically.  
  
“Very well. Tell your two little shadows that my, abilities, for what little they're worth, are in your hands.”


End file.
